Impromptu Babysitting
by Summers-Girl
Summary: Harry, through his parents' friendships in the Order, knew many of his teachers back when he was a baby, even though he may not remember it now. A short little drabble exploring Minerva McGonagall's relationship with baby Harry, before the tragic death of his parents. A little bit fluffy and a little bit bittersweet.


A/N: This is just a short little sweet drabble about Minerva McGonagall back when Harry Potter was a baby. I write for a marauders' era Minerva on a group RP, and it was through talking with other writers that the headcanon of Minerva babysitting Harry occasionally came to mind. On Pottermore we have had more information from Rowling that Minerva had many nieces and nephews whom she doted on, which obviously shows she gets on well with children and enjoyed it. And this drabble is just an exploration of her relationship with Harry before the death of his parents. Hope you enjoy and I would really love reviews if you're kind enough to give them. Thank you!

* * *

They hadn't given her prior warning, they had not sent an owl or spoken via the Floo Network, they had not even technically asked, but merely turned up on her doorstep with the small bundle. Were it anyone else she would have been less lenient, and were it any other bundle she would have said no, but she found herself unable to resist those large green eyes, the tiny, grabbing, pink fingers or the tuffs of short black hair.

Harry was an adorable baby, and while Minerva had never had children of her own, she had always had an affinity for them ever since her little brothers had been born. She supposed Lily and James more than deserved the time together. Between the Order, the Death Eaters, the constant battles, Harry probably took up any spare time they had, leaving no time for the couple to be themselves and enjoy one another. Minerva had been in love, she may be getting older as the years went on, but she had not forgotten the sensation, nor the desperation to be with one another, alone in each other's company.

So when the Potters had handed over their child on her doorstep she had agreed to look after him for the evening. Her house had more than enough safety charms on it and she was more than capable of protecting him should something happen.

He had been easy and amiable the first hour or so, doing little else but sleeping, and when he had become fussy she had levitated objects and made them dance around in the air above him like a mobile.

However, now he was no longer so easily appeased. He had eaten so he wasn't hungry, his nappy was clean and his favourite toy with him and yet still he would not rest. She rocked him, cradled him but he continued to fuss and as he sat on the comfy pillows of her sofa she recognised the warning signs; he was about to cry.

He opened his mouth, his eyes scrunching shut, his fists balling as he let out a loud, heart-wrenching wail. She tried to shush him, she held him, she levitated things, she made toys dance and still he cried. At a loss of what else to do, Minerva resorted to the last thing at her disposal. As she sat beside him on the couch, she transfigured, becoming the form of a little cat with the spectacle marks around her eyes.

At the sight of this sudden transformation, Harry immediately stopped crying and she let out a meow of relief. It turned to one of distress however when the little baby grabbed at her fur and began dragging her towards him. Out of habit she hissed and scrabbled away. She made it a rule that no one, not even misunderstanding muggles, were allowed to treat her like a cat no matter how much she looked like one. She was a witch, she was a professor, she was not a member of a petting zoo.

Harry looked hurt by the feline rejection and his crying began again. She ran into his lap immediately and resisted the urge to run as he wrapped his chubby arms around her and began to pet her head. It was utterly demeaning, but she found that for Harry she didn't mind. He was only a baby, and he was very gentle, and if kept him from crying and made him happy, she was more than happy to acquiesce. Though she shocked herself when she involuntarily began to purr. Bloody cat instincts.

So comfortable were they with one another, and so at peace, that it was not surprising that they both eventually fell asleep. Harry lay back against a pillow and Minerva curled up beside him, her front paws resting on him, and her tailed curled protectively around his feet.

Neither woke when Lily and James returned to pick up their son, but Minerva's ears perked up at the sound of the whispered 'aww'. Sitting up, her feline eyes found Lily and James and she immediately felt mortified at how they had found her; looking like a cat was one thing, behaving like one was another. She jumped down and walked behind them, transfiguring back as she did so.

She said she had a lovely time with Harry, but her expression ensured the couple did not comment what they had seen. Nor did they mention the many times after, when they came home to almost exactly the same image every time Minerva was babysitting.

* * *

When Lily and James were murdered and Harry had been left without a home, Minerva's first instinct had been to offer her own home, that she would look after him. She had felt the absence of company since the death of her husband three years into their marriage, and she more than adored spending time with her nieces and nephews. She would offer and she knew she could serve him well, keep him safe. But Albus had immediately stated he would be staying with the Dursleys. Minerva could not have disagreed more; she was proud to be a half-blood herself and had always been closer to her muggle Father than her witch Mother, but the Dursleys were the worst kind of Muggles you could find. Surely no good could come of Harry being raised by such people? But Albus' words and tone had brooked no argument and Minerva had had no choice to agree; after all, he always knew what he was doing and why and had never led any of them wrong at all. She trusted him. Though as the months and years went on, she sorely missed those babysitting nights she had ensured Lily and James never told anyone about.

When Harry arrived at Hogwarts on his first day, her heart had almost jumped to see how much he had grown since he was a wee babe, and she felt as though a part of Lily and James had truly returned. He didn't recognise her, didn't remember her. How could he? He was far too young. But a part of her had hoped.

When he was late for his first class, Minerva was immediately reminded of James who had pushed tardiness as far as was possible, and as she transfigured into her cat form and waited on the desk, she pondered over memories of Harry's parents. When Harry walked in, despite her best efforts, she found herself hoping that while he had not recognised her human form, he would at least perhaps remember a little of the cat; he had taken such comfort in that once. But he had not even know she was in the room, had not even glanced in her direction. As she told them off, and suggested turning them into pocket watches and maps for ease of punctuality she reprimanded herself. He was not James and he was not Lily. And he was not the baby he once was. They would have to get to know one another all over again.


End file.
